Forgetting Hogwarts
by Rebellion Author
Summary: A law has been passed, all female muggleborns must marry adult male purebloods, or face being ejected from the community. When Hermione is pared with her worst enemy, will she fall in love or chose to become an outcast? COMPLETE
1. Chapter I

_This here is take two of a story of mine. I started this one before leaving it a quick one-shot and wrote the sequel which didn't go so well. So this time I'm writing a longer version of this before going onto the sequel._

_And I know it is sort of a plot that has been over done before, but I've added my own little twist to it._

_Disclaimer: I do not own any little, or big, detail of this story. They all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling._

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**Forgetting Hogwarts**

"Hermione! Hermione! Come down here quick!" a voice called out, disrupting Hermione Granger's first day sleep as an eighteen year old. She pried her eyes open and slowly sat up. "Hurry Hermione!" she identified the voice as Ron's.

"I'm coming Ron!" she called back and climbed out of bed in the room she usually shared with Ginny, but the younger girl was in her last year of Hogwarts and as such was at school. She quickly found a pair of jeans and a long t-shirt. After changing she went down the stairs, being careful not to run. "OK OK what is it?" she asked when she reached the bottom, Harry Ron and Mrs. Weasley were in the kitchen.

"Sit down dear," Mrs. Weasley, "and Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," Hermione said almost questioningly as she sat down.

"Hermione, look at this, just arrived this morning," Ron said pushing a copy of the Daily Prophet over to her. She sighed, she didn't usually read the paper, before the war it was all lies leading up to it, during the war was more lies, and now that the war was over it was not full of lies, but of useless information, most of the time.

Upon looking at the headline her mouth dropped. It read: **NEW LAW PASSED! ALL ADULT FEMALE MUGGLEBORNS MUST MARRY A PUREBLOOD WIZARD!** She quickly read the article.

_Because of the increase of squibs being born into pureblood families a new law has been put into consideration and passed. All female muggleborns aged seventeen and older, who are not yet married, must be wed to a pureblood wizard by their next birthday. Failure to abide by this law will mean being removed from the wizarding community. The pureblood wizard just has to write into the newly created _Department of Marriage_ and request a muggleborn's hand. The first to petition for a hand will be the one to get it._

Hermione looked up, tears stinging her eyes, how could the ministry force this, it was unheard of. Unthinkable. Inhuman! She couldn't bare to read the rest.

For a moment no one said anything or moved, but finally Harry got up and gave her a sideways hug, "I know this must be a lowly birthday gift Hermione, but if it'll make you feel better, the moment Ron read the article he wrote to the ministry for your hand."

Hermione smiled, "Thanks," she meekly. Ron rushed up to give her a hug too. She wasn't too excited by the fact that she could possibly be marring one of her best friends, but it was better then having to marry someone she didn't know, or someone who was forty years older then her.

"Here have some tea," Mrs. Weasley said placing a cup of herbal tea in front of her, "Now boys back away, let her breathe." Both boys did just that, taking the chairs right next to her.

"Here, happy birthday," Ron said giving her a long narrow package wrapped in shinny red paper. Hermione took it and opened it. Inside were three different quills, one red, one gold, and one stripped red and gold, and an ink well.

"Thank you Ron," she said quietly looking at the gift. A smile lit up his face.

"And since you can't just have quills and nothing to use them with, here," Harry said giving her a thinner, but wider and longer package. Again she took it and opened it, this one wrapped in gold paper. Inside was a book with _Hermione's Diary_ stamped across the top.

"Oh thank you both of you," she said crying again, hugging both the boys. Within half an hour she had gotten two owls, one from Hogwarts with a book called _Catching the Flight, Fairies and other 'Mythical' Creatures_ from Ginny, and one with a box of Fred and Georges jokes from Fred and George. And even a letter from a couple Auror's in-training, wishing her a happy birthday; as she was training with them and Ron and Harry.

It would have been a nearly perfect day except for the letter that came after lunch. It was addressed to Hermione, so she opened it. At once a small stream of smoke came from the opening and wrapped around the ring finger on her left hand. When it disappeared a ring sat in its place. It had a green stone in the center and was circled with six silvery diamonds. After the shock of that wore off she reached in and pulled out the letter.

_Dear Miss Granger,_ it read

_As off this morning you have had three requests for your hand. Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, and Rikkulus Ronford._

_Draco Malfoy is eighteen and rich. He has blond hair, and silver eyes._

_Ron Weasley is eighteen and poor. He has read hair, and green eyes._

_Rikkulus Ronford is forty-eight and rich. He has going grey brown hair and brown eyes._

_As Draco Malfoy was the first to actually apply for your hand, you will be marrying him._

_Best of luck,_

_Margaret Smith,_

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And there it is. Hope you liked it.

Please review.

Rebellion Author.


	2. Chapter II

_And here it is, chapter two. Thank you so much for all the reviews I got._

_Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing about this, the characters, world everything belongs to JK Rowling._

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**Forgetting Hogwarts**

Hermione stood in shock for a few seconds before having to grab onto the table for support. She had gone into the kitchen to be alone while she read the letter, but now wished she hadn't.

"Hermione! Who was the letter from?" Mrs. Weasley's voice floated from the family room.

"The ministry," Hermione called back and walked unsteadily to the door for the family room, tears staining her cheeks. Once in the room, she just crumpled to the floor, "they want me to… want me to… to, to…" she couldn't say it, she just sobbed. Harry came over softly and gave her a hug while Ron took the letter.

"What this can't be? How can this be so? I wrote in," Ron protested at once, "and you can't stand Malfoy! This shouldn't be allowed! You should have a say in this! Oh this is horrible!"

"They want you to marry Malfoy?" Harry asked looking her in the eyes, she nodded, "Have they gone mad?"

"I think they have! We should go protest to them at once!" Ron replied loudly. Mrs. Weasley moved past Hermione to the kitchen, probably to make tea.

"It won't make a difference Ron. Nor will it do any good," Hermione said with a sigh. Seriously they would never learn anything. "Once a law is put into action the only way for it to be reversed or bent is if a new by-law or a completely new law is put into play. That's why they had to make the new law, Prison Sentencing 1652, that whoever kills a dark wizard heading an organization of dark wizards who are killing people will not have any penalty under the law. So Harry could stay out of Azkaban, legally, after the war."

"So? We'll ask for a law, and then…" Ron started.

"That won't work either Ron," Harry replied, "as much as that would be great."

"Well why not?" Ron pouted.

"Why do you think Ronald?" Hermione snapped, "The majority of the wizard who would vote for this new law are benefited by the law that was just put into play."

"Well do you think we could have a quick ceremony between you and Ron? Just say you've been engaged for a while, and this was the wedding day," Harry suggested.

"A sweet idea Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said, re-entering the room and giving everyone a cup of steaming hot tea, "but that would not work. Engagements must be recorded to the Ministry, as must the calling off of engagements."

"Well the Hermione could marry the ferret, sorry Hermione," Harry suggested, "and then just divorce him the next minute."

"That could work," Mrs. Weasley said, "except the Malfoy's and other upper-class Purebloods do not believe in divorce." At that Hermione started crying again. Harry's suggestion had offered hope, but even that was gone. Ron sat down on the other side of Hermione and hugged her from that side, Harry hadn't let go of Hermione.

They sat like that for a while; Mrs. Weasley had excused herself to go to the ministry to talk to Mr. Weasley; until a voice made them all jump. "Potter! Weasley! Get your filthy hands of my fiancé!"

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_And I am sorry that this chapter isn't longer like I had promised some people, but I like where it ended off._

_Please review._

_Thank you for reading._

_Rebellion Author._


	3. Chapter III

_I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter done, it's just really close to the end of the school year (a day and a half left!!!) And do expect a delay with the next chapter as I have a provincial exam coming up. But have fun reading._

_Disclaimer: I do not own a single little aspect of this story, it's all JK Rowling's._

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**Forgetting Hogwarts**

All three jumped at once, Hermione had to put a hand on Harry's shoulder to regain her balance as she landed on her feet. They turned to see Malfoy standing in the kitchen, a scowl covering his face.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Hermione asked with a sigh, it was enough that she had to marry the pig, but she didn't want to see him so soon.

"Just to see my fiancé, is that to much to ask?" he responded with a fake pout.

"Yes," Hermione scowled, "now leave."

"Well I certainly do hope you have your bags packed then," he said.

"Now why would she have done that?" Ron snapped, "She lives here."

"As of now she does not Weasel," Malfoy replied calmly, "she has a temporary room in Malfoy Manor that she will be staying in. It would be inappropriate for the fiancé of a Malfoy to be in such meager housing."

"I'd rather stay here then even be in the same postal-code as you Malfoy," Hermione spat back. Her hand was off of Harry's shoulder, as she had her balance back.

Malfoy got a cold look in his eyes, "You will either go pack up your belongings this instant or you will leave it all behind."

"First off," Hermione said taking a step forward, "_you_ have no say in what _I_ will or will not do. As such _you_ have no say in where _I_ live until that ungodly day when we are forced to be wed."

Malfoy also took a step forward, and then said in a dangerous voice, "That, my little Mudblood, is where you are wrong. As it seams you have no clue about true Pureblood life let me clue you in. First off, the husband or male fiancé; that's me; has the first and last say in everything. Second the wife or female fiancé; that's you; is almost subservient the husband or male fiancé; again that's me. That being said, either go pack your things, or let's get out of this dump."

"No," Hermione said with a laugh in her voice, "there is no way in hell that I'm just going to do whatever you say. You've lost what little mind you have." Malfoy raised his hand as if to slap Hermione, but she caught his wrist easily; that's to her training.

"Insults are not highly favored either. Now listen up Miss Priss, I'm not all that happy about this marriage either but that's just too bad for the both of us isn't it? I have a reputation to build and you need a suitable husband. I just have the better end of the deal. I call of the wedding and I go on living my normal life. But you, you don't get to go onto the second choice. It's either your marry me, or no more magic, no more idiotic best friends, no more wands, and everything you've learned over the last eight years will leave your head. Now is that what you really want?

"Now be a good girl, let go of my wrist and go upstairs and pack." Hermione glared at him as she thought over what he just said. He did have a point, as terrible it was to admit it. She finally she let go of his wrist and turned toward the stairs, tears stinging her eyes as she climbed each step, leaning on the rickety rail for support. She could hear yelling downstairs and the sound of something dashing up the stairs. She looked behind her to see Harry running up after her.

"Hermione," he said catching up with her, "I can't believe you're doing this. Just doing what he says."

"It's not like I have a choice Harry," Hermione said with tears almost yelling at him. "I'm sorry," she sobbed guiltily after a couple seconds.

"No no, it's my fault, I shouldn't have blamed you," Harry said giving her a hug, "but if you want I'll help you pack."

Hermione smiled, "Thanks," she said quietly.

"Don't mention it," Harry said, "oh and can you do me one little favor?" Hermione looked at him curiously. "Well Ginny has figured out how to send howlers, and has just been dieing to try it out on someone, just don't tell Ferret that you're expecting a letter from school."

Hermione smiled a mischievous smile, "I won't," she promised.

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_And there you all go. I promise I'll update it as soon as possible._

_Thanks for all the reviews._

_Please review._

_Rebellion Author._


	4. Chapter IV

_I am _so_ sorry about the delay for this chapter. It's just after my exam I got writers block on this story. But don't worry, that is over now. This chapter got finished. So have fun reading._

_Disclaimer: Raise your hand if you think I own any part of Harry Potter. Those who didn't raise their hand, good for you, you get and A. Those who did put up your hand are seriously mistaken. I do not own so much as a '.' of Harry Potter. It is all JK Rowling's. Every last little detail is hers._

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**Forgetting Hogwarts**

It didn't take them long to pack. Hermione had put a compression spell on every item that went into her suitcase, so, what looked like it could only carry a couple pants, skirts, tops and some underwear held all of her tops; twenty-nine; pants; five; skirts; sixteen; and underwear. As well as her training robes, dress robes, and casual robes; and all her books. And it wasn't that heavy; thanks to another spell of Hermione's.

"Here I'll take it," Harry said grabbing the handle of the bag. They hadn't talked much during the packing; Hermione was crying too much and Harry knew better to talk to her when she was in moods like that.

"Thanks Harry," Hermione said slowly standing up from the floor. Harry started for the door, going to hold it open for her. "Hey Harry!" he stopped to turn around, "Kill me?"

"Hermione I can't do that," Harry said dropping her bag and rushed over to hug her. After a couple seconds, a minute most likely, he held her at arms length and looked her straight in the eye. "I wouldn't be able to kill you Hermione. Not for all the gold in the world, not even if it meant Voldemort would come back. And besides it could be worse." Hermione gave him a skeptical look, "Really. You could have had to marry that Rikkulus Ronford fellow. Next to some forty-something sick-o, even the ferret would be a welcome choice."

"Thank you for that unneeded complement Potter, now get your hands off of _my_ fiancé," came a silky voice from the door. Harry whipped around; Hermione looked over his shoulder; to see Malfoy leaning against a door post, arms crossed, and somewhat glaring. He peeled himself from the door and walked over to them, stopping to pick up Hermione's bag; Ron could be seen rushing in after him.

Malfoy went and stood behind Hermione. Then in a cruel cold ordering type voice said, "Now be a good girl, and tell your idiotic friends' goodbye, we're leaving." He shoved her slightly, causing her to loose her balance for half a second.

She hugged both of them at the same time, sniffling and crying as she said, "Bye. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. Now Ron, remember to actually wear you training robes this time, and don't spend all morning eating breakfast. Harry, help him remember, and don't forget to send Ginny letters every other day." She smiled mischievously, "I'll see you later, ok? Bye?"

"Yes yes, very sentimental, now lets go," Malfoy snapped pulling her back, and before anyone could say anything he, while still clutching onto her arm, apparated away.

"A little warning _would_ be nice!" Hermione spat as they appeared at the foot of a long stone walkway fenced in by beautiful green trees. She yanked her arm out of his grasp.

"Ah, ah, ah," Malfoy tsked grabbing her arm again, "a little warning would be uncalled for." He started walking up the walkway, pulling Hermione along. "Now first thing you are going to do is change into appropriate robes for tea, and then join me and my parents for tea. Today they don't expect perfect behavior, you being a Mudblood and all."

"You could at least stop with the name calling Malfoy," Hermione spat.

"You will _stop_ ordering me around," Malfoy replied back evenly, then continued with his talk, "After that you will begin your official training in being a purebloods wife. Most of it my mother has graciously offered to do. The fine tuning will be left up to me. And get this straight real fast, the faster you give in and become submissive, the less pain you'll be in."

"Like I would do anything you say," Hermione growled. Malfoy responded by tugging her arm, causing her to stumble a bit.

"Ah, here we are," Malfoy said a few minutes later. Hermione looked up; she had been staring at the stone path for the whole time. What she saw was breathtaking. A mansion, that could almost be called a palace rose up from emerald green freshly cut grass. The building itself was a dull grey, but the colour seamed to suit it. It looked to be centuries old, and probably was. Hermione would have loved to just stand there and admire the house, and the surrounding lawn and tree's, and would have been willing too if she hadn't known whose house it was. But no such luck, Malfoy, continued down the path to the mansion, up the stone steps, and pushed open the heavy wooden doors.

"Good afternoon Master Malfoy," a voice said, causing Hermione to look down to see a house elf bent down into a low bow.

She opened her mouth to say something to the elf, when Malfoy cut her off. In a sharp tone he commanded to the elf, "Flippy take Miss Granger here to her room, and help her change into the robes Mistress Malfoy set out for her. After you have done that escort her to the parlor for tea. And Flippy, do **NOT** let her out of your sight. Am I clear?"

"Yes Master," the elf, Flippy, said with another low bow. "Flippy will do exactly what Master says. Flippy will do that right this moment Master. Come with Flippy Miss." Malfoy let go of her arm as Flippy, dressed in what looked to be a very old baby's bed sheet, took her hand and led her away.

"You don't have to do this Flippy," Hermione said kindly, "you don't have to do this at all."

"Miss talks foolishness to Flippy," Flippy said, "Flippy is a house elf. Flippy must do whatever Master tells Flippy to do. And Flippy must do so without complaint. And Flippy does that, because Flippy is a good house elf. Not like brother Dobby. Dobby bad house elf, dreaming of freedom and luxuries that are not for house elves to have. No Miss, Flippy will do what Master tells Flippy to do."

"But Flippy, wouldn't you rather be free? Not having to serve anyone but yourself? Wouldn't that be better then being a slave?" Hermione asked still in a kind voice.

"No Miss," Flippy replied, "Miss is still asking Flippy silly questions. Flippy is a house elf Miss. House elves do not deserve freedom or need freedom. Flippy is happy where Flippy is. Flippy serves a powerful family, and Flippy is happy to do so." She suddenly stopped in front of a door. Being so intent on trying to convince Flippy that freedom would be very good, Hermione hadn't been paying attention to where they were going. "This is Miss's room," Flippy said opening the door. Hermione stepped in, and was sure her heart had stopped momentarily.

The room was, of course, all done in green and silver. The thick carpet was green, and the walls were silver. A wooden, portable, closet that was brown with a tint of green stood in one corner of the room. On the wall closest to the door sat a green vanity, with a large heart shaped mirror. Another wooden door stood next to the vanity. In the middle of the room sat the largest single person bed Hermione had even seen. A canopy bed even. The frame was brown. But the thick quilt on top was green, and Hermione was sure that underneath it, the other blankets would be silver and green. And the pillows that sat at the headboard were all silver and green. The mesh that rested on top of the tall bed posts was see-through silver.

On the bed though, lay a silver dress, with green ribbon weaved into it, and beside the dress was silver robes with green cuffs, and green at all the edges.

"Master wishes for Miss to wear this for tea Miss," Flippy said pushing Hermione to the bed. She clapped her hand once and suddenly Hermione was not in her knee length skirt and white blouse, but in the dress and robe. Her other clothes not to be found. She looked down at the dress, which ended just below her knee's, and was surprised that it looked good on her. It also made the ring on her finger more noticeable then before. She tried to pull of the ring but it wouldn't budge.

"Miss cannot take off Miss's engagement ring Miss," Flippy said guiding her to the vanity to do her hair and make-up, "Master has put a spell on it so that Miss will not be able to remove it Miss." Hermione scowled. "Miss should not do that either, Master will not like it Miss." It took the elf all told, ten minutes to do Hermione's hair and make-up. True it was because the elf used some magic on the make-up to apply itself onto Hermione, so the time was only spent on the hair. It ended with Hermione wear a light silver eye shadow, a hint of blush, and a nice shade or red for lipstick. Her hair was done up in a tight bun, with no hair hanging in her face or out of the bun.

"Flippy?" Hermione asked after the elf was done her hair.

"Yes Miss?" Flippy asked with a bow.

"What is through that door?" Hermione asked nodding to the door by the vanity.

"Master Malfoy's room Miss," Flippy said. "Now come Miss. Master, Master, and Mistress will be waiting for Miss, and Flippy will be punished if Miss is late."

"But it wouldn't be your fault Flippy," Hermione said standing up none-the-less, not wanting to put the little elf in harms way. Flippy took her hand and led her from the room again. This time Hermione tried to watch where they were going. It seamed to be a constant stream of stone corridors, lit only by torches on the wall. Paintings were hissing at her as she walked by, and calling her a Mudblood. She tried to remember the way back to the room, but after left right left left left left right left right left left right right right left right left left right, she couldn't remember how many lefts went where and when.

"In here Miss," Flippy said stopping by yet another door. Flippy opened the door, and stepped in, pulling Hermione with her. With a bow she said, "Miss Granger is here Master."

"You may go Flippy," came the cold drawl of Malfoy Jr. The house elf scampered from the room, letting the door fall behind her. Hermione winced as it shut with a slight bang. She was now alone in enemy territory. She looked up to see Malfoy Jr, and Sr. and well as Mrs. Malfoy.

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_And there you have it. Chapter four. Hope you liked it._

_Now, I am holding a vote. I need to know if people want Hermione and Malfoy to actually fall in love or not. I already know how this one is going to end. This vote if for the ending of the sequel. So please, when you review, please put whether you want them to fall in love, or stay enemies. Thank you._

_Please review._

_Rebellion Author._


	5. Chapter V

_A faster update. And while not all updates will be next day or close to like this. For the next two months chapters will be coming faster. Due to the fact that their is not school. (Ya...) Though I think I'll be done this story for the end of the chapter._

_Disclaimer: I own exactly 0 of the Harry Potter world. It's JK Rowling's, not mine. I'm just a fanfic writer._

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**Forgetting Hogwarts**

"Ah, so this is the one you plan to earn back our image in society with," Malfoy Sr. sneered, looking at Hermione from head to toe.

"Yes Father," Malfoy Jr. replied, "it would be for the best. Imagine the papers headlines when they find out that I plan to wed the person who I had hated for years, who just happens to be of unworthy blood."

"That is very smart Son," Malfoy Sr. said after a moment's pause, "I see I have raised you well."

"Thank you Father," Malfoy Jr. said with a nod of his head. He then looked over at Hermione, "Sit," he commanded indicating to a silver chair to his left. His father was at his right, and his mother sat next to his father. Both of the men sat in green chairs, and the other two chairs were silver. After a seconds hesitation she slowly stepped forward and sat in the chair. When in enemy territory, it was better to blend in then to stick out, that was the first thing that was taught in Auror training. "Very good."

"Hello Hermione," Mrs. Malfoy said in a kind voice.

"Hi?" Hermione said meekly, sounding like a five year old on her first day of school.

"Oh no no no, such a common greeting is not acceptable," Mrs. Malfoy said, sounding a little like the fifth year defense against the dark arts teacher, "in society, one must use 'Hello' followed by the name of the person you are addressing."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said a little shocked.

"That's alright dear you didn't know," Mrs. Malfoy said handing Hermione a china tea cup, "Now try again." OK, so she was sounding a little less Umbridge-like, and more Kindergarten teacher-like.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy?" Hermione said a little hesitantly.

"That's better dear," she said, "but please, you are soon to be my daughter-in-law, call me Narcissa."

"Draco, where are your manners, you haven't officially introduced us to your, ah, lovely fiancé," Malfoy Sr. said with a sneer.

"I am so sorry Father," Malfoy Jr. said with a little flush. "Hermione this is my mother Narcissa Malfoy. Mother, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, my father Lucius Malfoy. Father, Hermione Granger." Malfoy Sr. just nodded.

Hermione sat in silence for a couple seconds, her anger at Malfoy Jr. brewing at what he just said, until she finally snapped and rounded. "What do you think gives you the right to call me Hermione?" she snapped, "As much as your, niceties, are appreciated you should ask before just calling someone by their first name."

"Hermione," Malfoy Jr. said in a forced calm voice, "you will be silent this instant."

"No," Hermione snapped back, "_you_ have no right to tell me what to or not to do. So get that through your overly thick head."

"Hermione," Narcissa said kindly, "I don't think it would be wise for you to talk back to Draco. He is very, temperamental."

Hermione had opened her mouth to say something, but Malfoy Jr, seeing this, cut her off quickly, "And you will not talk back to your elders either."

Hermione turned to face him, fire burning in her eyes, "And just who do you think you are? My mother? You have absolutely no right to tell me what to do, when to do it, or even how to do it."

Malfoy's face when stark white for half a second, but then it went back to normal colour, "Mother, Father, excuse us for a moment please," he said putting his cup and saucer down. He stood up and took a few steps to Hermione. She had just enough time to put her tea cup down, before he had yanked her up by the back of her robes and proceeded to drag her from the room.

"Do you mind?" Hermione snapped after the door shut behind them. He didn't answer at first, but dragged her down the hall a bit, before stopping and slamming her back against the door. "What is with you?"

"Don't you dare talk back to me, or try to undermine me," he spat. "Get this straight, and get this straight now. In pureblood society the male has complete dominance over the female. Whether you like it or not your life is now under my control."

"No," Hermione said stepping forward, he pushed her back against the wall, "you get this straight. I am in no way part of your high and mighty pureblood society. I don't even want to be here right now." She pointed a finger at his chest, and looked up into his cold grey eyes, "So remember you have no say in what I will or will not do. Even after we are wed."

He looked like he was going to say something, his eyes got even colder and more menacing them usual, and for some reason it sent a cold shiver of dread down Hermione's spine. Then, before she could react, the back of his hand came into painful contact with her face. "That, my little mudblood, is where you are wrong. In the muggle," he spat the word out, "world you would be right. But thank Merlin we are not in the muggle world.

"Now seeing as you obviously can't function properly around others," he clapped his hands once and Flippy the house elf appeared.

"You called for Flippy Master?" Flippy asked with a low bow.

"Yes. Flippy, take Miss Granger here back to her room," Malfoy ordered, "then lock her door, the door connecting our rooms, and any windows that are in her room. And then leave her alone."

"Yes Master. Flippy will do just that Master," Flippy said with another bow. She took Hermione's hand, "This way Miss."

"One moment Flippy," Malfoy interjected. The elf stopped. In one swift movement he grabbed Hermione's wand. At the same time she grabbed his wrist to get it back. "Let go Granger," he said coolly. She glared at him and reached with her other hand to grab her wand. Without so much as flinching Malfoy used his other hand to whip out his wand, he pointed it at Hermione's arm, muttered something she couldn't hear. A grey mist shot out of the end of the wand hitting the arm that was holding his wrist. She withdrew it quickly, and her other hand clutched the arm. She didn't have to look at it to tell it was broken. But looking at it confirmed it; she could see the large bump in her skin where the bone had split in two.

"And Flippy, before you leave Miss Granger alone, fix her arm," Malfoy said calmly, ignoring the tears that had started to flow down Hermione's cheeks, smudging her make-up.

"Yes Master, Flippy will do that too," the elf said with a bow, and started to lead Hermione away, by holding onto her robes.

"Oh and Granger," Malfoy said causing Hermione to look back. He flipped her wand in the air once, caught it and said, "I'll be keeping this until I see fit for you to get it back."

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_And here we are. End of chapter five. Sorry to leave it off right there, but I liked that ending for a chapter._

_And the results of the tally:_

_out of 10 votes:_

_9 people are for Hermione and Malfoy falling in love_

_and_

_1 person is against Hermione and Malfoy falling in love._

_If you don't know what that means I am not going to tell you, as it should be obvious._

_Thank you for reading._

_The next chapter will be up soon._

_Please review._

_Rebellion Author._


	6. Chapter VI

_I'm sorry this chapter took a little while. But I was having fun with it. And I keep getting idea's for the sequel, and some for this one, that are a little far off. But anyway, this chapter finally got finished._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter world (except the one book I bought at the book store, and the four movies that came out. And those are just copies. I don't actually own the copyright to it). I'm just a little fanfic writer._

* * *

**Forgetting Hogwarts**

"I can not believe he just did that!" Hermione yelled after they were back in her room. "He has no right to do that! He took my wand even!"

"Miss is wrong Miss," Flippy said, after hitting her own head, "Master has full right to do that. Miss is a Miss after all, and Master is a Master. Even house elves know to take the word of a Master over that of a Miss, Miss. Now hold out your arm Miss."

Hermione looked at the little elf in shock, but held out her broken arm non-the-less. Flippy tapped the bulge that had to be the broken bone with one finger, and instantly it went down, and Hermione could move her arm without lances of pain again; though her arm was still really sore.

"Miss will need to wear a sling Miss," Flippy said clapping her hand once, and white cloth appeared in them, and she quickly tied Hermione's now fixed arm in it. "Flippy isn't that good of a healer Miss, so Miss's arm will be sore until the morning Miss. Try not to bump it into anything Miss. Or get Master mad Miss. Even after Miss's arm is better Miss shouldn't get Master mad Miss." Hermione just smiled, she had no intention of just giving in to Malfoy. Flippy quickly went to the one window and latched it, and went to the door connecting Hermione's room to Malfoy's. As the elf was doing that Hermione tried to dash to the other door, hoping to get out of there, and at least find a fireplace and floo powder. But her legs wouldn't move.

"Miss won't be able to leave Miss," Flippy said as she headed to the last door, "Master has probably put a spell on Miss so Miss won't be able to move until all the doors are locked. Master is very smart like that. Have a good evening Miss." Flippy bowed again and left the room. As the door closed, Hermione distinctly heard the sound of a lock sliding into place

"No," she said in a panic, finally being able to move. She rushed over to the door, and tugged wildly at it. She couldn't be trapped in this green abomination of a room, in Malfoy Manor, next to Malfoy. "No!" It was no use, without her wand, the lock was stuck. She pushed off the wall and spun around. Storming to the bed, she kicked one of the posts, and was rewarded with a sharp pain in her toe. Finally she just collapsed onto the many pillows and started sobbing.

She didn't know how long she staid there crying for. Or for how long after she stopped that she heard the lock undo its self. She didn't bother looking up to see which Malfoy was coming in to wreck havoc on her life. She heard the door click shut, and the lock sliding back into place. But it wasn't until she felt the bed move from someone sitting on it, and felt a hand touch her hair that she moved. She looked up and saw Narcissa sitting there with a sad, almost sympathetic smile.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"No," Hermione said shaking her head and started to cry again. Narcissa helped her into a sitting position and held her until she stopped crying, in a motherly gesture.

"There there," she said as Hermione's tears sniffled away. "I know Draco can be harsh. He takes after his father. I tried to advise him to start of gentle with you, as you didn't grow up in our society, so our way of life would be foreign to you. But his father quickly changed his mind."

"He's foolish to think I'll just bend down to him," Hermione grumbled.

"I know how you feel," Narcissa said, "I believed that when I was first engaged too. It took Lucius some time, but even I eventually caved in. Even the strongest bones can snap. And if even if you can stand the pain of his punishments, your sanity won't for long. I'd love to tell you to be strong, and it won't be too long before Draco just gives up. But I know my son, when he wants something, he won't stop until he gets it. And while I'm sure your will is stronger then pureblood women who have been told their whole lives that they need to obey men, even yours will break eventually."

"But I don't want to give in," Hermione said, sounding like a little kid. "I just want to go home. Where there is not stupid marriage law, where Mal…Draco is nothing more then the annoying ferret, and the only thing I have to worry about is if I'm going to pass my next test on my way to being and Auror, not if some stupid guy is going to go all psycho and demand I do his bidding."

Narcissa laughed a little, "I know. But it's not that simple. I wish it was. If we could just pop back and change history, I would have, at one point, wanted to go and not get married. I'd have been a teacher. But now I wouldn't trade my position as a wife and mother for all the classes to teach in the world. I love my little boy, and the only way I would have ever had him is if I got married."

"But I can hardly look at him, let alone marry and," she shivered, "have children with him. He's just so violent! Not all purebloods do this. The Weasley's don't, and from what I've read, neither did the Potters."

"And that's why," Narcissa said, "Draco is a Malfoy. And Malfoy men are not kittens, as much as they look like them. And Weasley's are blood traitors, so I don't think they would have our values. And Richard Potter taught his son to view women on a close to equal level, but even James Potter, demanded some submissiveness from Lily, just not to the same extent that Lucius or Draco do." She smiled another soft smile.

Hermione was about to say something, but then thought better of it. "Now here," Narcissa said removing her arms from the hug and giving Hermione a stack of books, "Draco asked that I give these to you. And this," she handed her what looked to be a really old book, "don't worry it won't fall apart. He wants you to read at least this one tonight, and he'll be quizzing you about them in the morning."

Hermione looked at the thickness of it, as well as its oldness, "What is it on?"

"Rules," Narcissa said, "a lot of rules. Some he has personalized and some are the traditional rules that have been passed down from generation to generation for hundreds of years." Hermione looked at the book, probably the first one she didn't want to read, and she's read boring books. "Now I'll leave you to your studies. Have a good night." And she got up and left.

Hermione sighed but opened the book anyway, and settled in to start reading. Talk about a really stupid pointless book; and that was the first, and possibly last time she'd ever say that about a book. First were the general rules:

No wife of a Malfoy shall work.

The wife of a Malfoy must never speak against her husband.

The two main focuses of life for the wife of a Malfoy are to please her husband, and to produce an heir.

The first child must be conceived within two years of marriage.

The wife of a Malfoy must do whatever her husband says the moment he says it. And she must do it cheerfully, and without question.

The wife of a Malfoy is to adore her husband.

Adultery is punishable by death, for the wife alone.

The wife of a Malfoy may not name her children that falls to the husband. She may, though, give the child his/her middle name.

Hermione couldn't even find words enough to express her anger at the stupidity of the rules. Sure these rules had probably been written in the Dark Ages, but still! Not being able to work! How would she see Harry or Ron? And there was no way she was going to have child with Malfoy! The poor child. Adoring Malfoy was going to be as likely as a Lioness adoring the antelope.

The next sets of rules were even worse. She could hardly read them. Some of them included:

The husband is to be addressed as 'Sir' unless the wife is trying to get his attention, or they are out in muggle public.

The Malfoy husband can have as many wives as he wishes.

A Malfoy may strike his wife for no reason what-so-ever, but his wife may never hit him, or another male.

The Malfoy wife is to understand that all discipline and punishment coming from the Malfoy husband is directed solely to help her become a better witch and Malfoy.

Hermione was ready to chuck the book into some fire after reading all of those rules. All three hundred fifty-nine of them. And there were rules on everything, from how to walk and how to hold a tea-cup, to the proper ways to lie in bed with a Malfoy. Despicable! She had just dropped it onto the foot of her bed when the door between her room and Malfoy's opened up, and in walked the insufferable ferret himself.

"I see you've been reading," he said coldly as the door shut, and locked itself, behind him.

"Well what else am I supposed to do?" Hermione growled, "You're holding me prisoner in this room." She slid off the bed, and started to walk toward him. "And you know what, your going to let me out, right now." She ended right in front of him as she said the last words.

He laughed and leaned against the door, "Oh really? And what do you plan to do about it? If I recall correctly, you don't have your wand any more." Hermione inwardly groaned. She was hoping he had forgotten about that. "And really, is this how you treat your fiancé? I know you had been reading the book I got Mother to send up." Hermione glared at him. "And since you don't seem to have taken them to heart, I will test you on them right now, instead of in the morning when you had more time to revise them. Alright? Each wrong answer his punishable by a slap, or a curse. Whichever I feel like really."

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_And there we go. And yes Malfoy is a jerk. Yes he is going to be jerk for a while to come. And I know I make him extremely cruel in this story. But don't worry, that's just how I picture him from reading the books._

_Hope you liked it._

_Please review._

_Rebellion Author._


	7. Chapter VII

_I am _so_ sorry that I took so long to update, it just that this chapter is longer then the others I have written so far (five pages instead of three), and I kept stopping so I didn't lose track of where I was going._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. It is all JK Rowling's. All of it. Every last dot of it is hers._

* * *

**Forgetting Hogwarts**

"You wouldn't dare," Hermione said coldly, backing away from him.

"Won't I?" Malfoy asked in a calm sort of amused way, "And how would you know, you little Mudblood." Hermione rolled her eyes at his pathetic attempt to call her names. She stopped backing away, judging herself to be the right distance to defend attacks without a wand. "I'm waiting for an answer."

"Then keep waiting," Hermione said and then, in a prissy, girly type move, she turned on her toes, almost losing her balance, and walked to her bed, sat down and grabbed another one of the books. Not looking at the title. She was about to read it when it was pulled from her hand, and she was forcefully pulled to her feet.

"Did you not even pay attention to what you were reading?" Malfoy hissed in her face, "You are to answer when you are spoken too."

"And were you paying attention when I told you, you have no say in what I do?" Hermione challenged back. Malfoy glared for a few seconds before suddenly using the back of his hand across her face. Ignoring the sting Hermione slapped him back. With a simple move, Malfoy had her good wrist in his hand, had it behind her back, and her bent over the side of the bed; which coincidental raised itself to her waist height.

"And isn't that against another one of the rules?" Malfoy asked in a voice just above a whisper. He was leaning against her back so his mouth was just by her ear when he said it. She wiggled a bit, trying to get her arm out of his grasp. "Is this your miraculous training at work? You wouldn't be able to stop a real criminal even if you tried."

"You know perfectly well that I haven't been in training for that long," Hermione said in an accusative tone. It was true. After Hogwarts, Harry Ron and Hermione had taken the entrance exam for the Auror training. It took all of July and half of August to complete the exam, consisting of psychological, fitness, and magic ability exams. After that it was another week before they got there exam results, she barely passed the fitness exam, and doubted she'd make it that far into training. Hermione had only been in training for a grand total time of a month. In that time, the first two weeks was paper and book work. And now they had only been working on how to deflect simple things, like stopping someone from hitting you; at that Hermione wasn't the best at yet, she kept losing her balance.

"Ah good, so it won't be that bad when you have to be pulled from the class," Malfoy said pulling her to her feet, whipping her around and pushing her to the wall. "Now, let's see how well you actually read the book," he said before Hermione could raise objections. "And please be careful how you frame your answer." Hermione glared at him. "Now, we'll start off easy."

"How about we don't and say we didn't?" Hermione said sweetly. He glared at her and pressed his hand to her throat, with just enough force that she felt like she was choking, but she was able to fight for a breath or two.

"What were you saying?" he asked coldly.

Hermione was seriously thinking of telling him to back off, but basic common sense kicked in, "Ask away…" Hermione chocked out. He raised an eyebrow, obviously expecting something else, "sir?"

"Very good," he said removing his hand from her throat. She gulped down some air quickly; as she did that she brought a hand up and gingerly touched her throat. From the pain that lanced through her she guessed it was going to bruise, if it hadn't already. "Now for a little fun. Granger, say we are out at a social function, and some less-than-satisfactory people are there and start talking to us, what do you do?"

"Smile sweetly, return their chatter and find the fastest way out of there?" Hermione guessed, sure she knew the real correct reply, but there was no way she was going to just bend down to his every wish and whim, or question.

"I'm going to ignore that and give you one more chance to answer that properly," Malfoy said coolly.

"I am so sorry," Hermione said in a false apologetic gush, "I should have said 'smile sweetly, return their chatter, and find the fastest way to get away from them, Sir.'"

"I was really hoping you wouldn't make me do this," Malfoy said without any remorse, or anything but a flat tone. In a flash he had removed the sling on Hermione's arm, held her hand delicately, and after looking at her arm for a few seconds, and feeling for something stopping when Hermione winced as his hand went over the barely-just-been-mended break. He raised his face just enough for her to see it, and he smiled cruelly at the fear in her eyes. "Don't worry, this will only hurt for a while," he said softly, and then sharply hit the spot where the break was with the side of his hand.

She hissed when she felt it snap again, and tears started to flow down her faces. Despite this she glared at Malfoy, and proceeded to bring her knee up to where it really mattered, between his legs; as she did that her good arm reached for his waistband and pulled out his wand. As he half sunk to the floor in pain, Hermione rushed to the door that led to the hall. Knowing it would be locked she quickly said the unlocking spell before trying to open the door. It wouldn't budge. She tried again. Still it wouldn't move any more then to bounce in the lock.

"You must know by now Granger, that unless given permission by its owner, a wand will not work in the hands of another witch or wizard," came Malfoy's cold hard voice from behind her. She froze, and her blood ran cold. There was a half second pause before she found herself facing Malfoy, eye to eye. And as he wasn't bending down to meet her five foot five inch frame that meant he had lifted her to match his six foot three inches.

He pulled his wand from her hand and held it under her chin. "I could kill you, you know," he said coldly, "but that wouldn't look good on my reputation now would it? So I'm going to make you a little offer that I know you won't refuse." Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically, though inwardly thinking that she would agree to almost anything he said. To tell the truth, he freaked her out. "You are going to start behaving like the fiancé of a Pureblood or I will call off our wedding."

"Which means I would then have to marry the second person who wrote in for my hand," Hermione said logically, "and I am pretty sure it was Ron."

"And that, my dear little Mudblood is where you are wrong," he said in a calm steady voice. "All I have to say when I call off the marriage to make sure you don't marry another is that you were unable to mold into a Pureblood way of life, and unable to be a loving obedient wife and that I am sure that no Pureblood would accept that from a wife. And then poof, all your memories of Hogwarts and the wizarding world are gone."

"You wouldn't," Hermione said, knowing perfectly well that he would.

"Do not tell me what to do," he hissed, "now tell me, do we call off the wedding or do we try this again?"

Hermione thought for a moment. Was a life time of misery with Malfoy worth a handful of memories? But then there was the issue of her friends, and the battle they had fought in. And the fact that this was her life. She couldn't just through it away without giving it some sort of a chance. "I accept your offer," she said, and then added almost sarcastically, "sir."

"Good," he said dropping her to the floor, she landed painfully on her back end, "now tell me again, _Hermione_, if we are at a social function and less then socially acceptable people start talking to you, what do you do?"

"First, look to you for permission to talk, and if you do not grant it walk away without so much as a word, and if you do grant it talk briefly with them, without really engaging in the conversation. Sir," Hermione rattled off.

"Very good," he said patting her on the head. He pulled a pocket watch from the side of his robe. "Dinner will be in half an hour. I suggest you take this time to cover up your bruises, and change into something acceptable. If you open the closet you will find the exact outfit I want you to wear. And do be on your best behavior, Pansy and Blaise are coming over." He waved his wand over her once again broken arm, walked to the conjoining room door and left. Once again her arm healed itself, only this time there was no pain with the fix.

A few tears escaped her eyes, and Hermione cursed herself for being so week. But after a few minutes she forced herself to stand up and she went to the closet. Inside she only saw one dress, and a robe hanging next to it. The dress was emerald green, strapless, and flared out at the waist, reminding Hermione of a green wedding dress. The robe was a slightly darker green that molded around the dress, but was still its own item. She had to admit it was pretty. So, a little reluctantly she slid out of the dress Flippy had put her in, and put the emerald green one on. It looked amazing, but Hermione almost gagged anyway, just because Malfoy was forcing her to wear it.

She sat down at the vanity and was shocked when she saw herself. She couldn't look _that_ terrible. She hadn't even been at Malfoy Manor for twenty-four hours. And yet her cheeks, particularly her right cheek, was already turning purple, her make-up was all smudged, and even the hint of hand prints were visible on her neck. She sighed; she'd have to find an owl or something. Ron and Harry needed to hear about this.

She found make-up remover, and quickly whipped all the make-up off her face. And then she started again. She was shocked that foundation could hide a bruise so well. You could sort of see it, if you looked hard enough, but she didn't have to put excess on so that it looked fake. After she had hidden her bruises, and reapplied eye shadow, blush, and lipstick. She quickly fixed her hair. She twisted it up into a simple tight bun, a dancer bun her muggle friends called it.

"Are you ready yet?" Malfoy asked after he barged into her room without a knock. Hermione had to thank Merlin that she wasn't in the process of changing. Hermione nodded and stood up.

Dinner hadn't been that bad of an occasion, Malfoy Jr. and Sr. ignored her. Malfoy Sr. was talking to Narcissa, and Malfoy Jr. to Blaise. That left Hermione and Pansy Parkinson. At first Hermione was expecting some high and might Pureblood the-whole-world-revolves-around-me attitude. Instead Pansy surprised her and was nice and gracious, and easily someone Hermione could be friends with. It turned out Pansy was sort of going through the same thing as Hermione, she had just married Blaise, and he expected perfection or as close to it as one could get.

It was after dinner that things started to fall apart. Malfoy Sr. had suggested that they dance, and Malfoy Jr. and Blaise agreed, so everyone moved from the kitchen to a ball room. An orchestra of house elves started playing a simple waltz, and Malfoy Jr. asked Hermione to dance with her. It wasn't an order, but from the look in his eyes Hermione knew she didn't have a choice.

"Of course I would Draco," she said in a false lovingly voice. He nodded his approval. Hermione's stomach was tossing and turning. There was no way she was getting out of this alive. It started out slow, and though Hermione briefly lost her balance with every turn she was able to hide it, and was enjoying the dance, even if the partner was not her first choice she would want to dance with. Then the music started to get faster and faster. As it did it got harder and harder to maintain her balance, until she lost it completely, and would have fallen if Malfoy hadn't been holding onto her. And that was the end of the night. Malfoy excused them to go up to there rooms.

"What was that?" he hissed after she was 'safely' back in her room.

"I lost my balance, _sir_" she said sitting on the bed and placed her head in one hand, and turned her head in it to look at him.

"You were doing fine until the music sped up, unconfident maybe?" he asked with a sneer.

"I wish," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing," Hermione said with a sigh. She then added in a well hid snide voice, "I'm sorry, I'll try and do better next time sir."

"You better, do you know how embarrassing that was for me? My fiancé unable to dance!" Malfoy yelled, "I'm half way inclined to set you up for dance lessons." Hermione lifted her head, her eyes wide, she'd love to take dance lessons again, but quickly dropped her head back down. She would never be able to dance again, and she knew it. "Well, say something!"

"I do not need dance lessons _sir_," Hermione said, not bothering to hide the hate in her voice. "I am perfectly fine and doing slow dances, just as long as they don't become fast dances."

"Oh really?" Malfoy asked striding forward, and pulling Hermione to her feet. He put a finger under her chin and lifted it up so he was looking into her eyes. But instead of love as one would think you'd see from such affection Hermione only say disgust in his eyes, "You look like a ten leg duck dancing. I will talk to Mother right away about finding you a place to learn to dance." With that he turned and left the room. Again Hermione heard the door lock as it shut.

She sat down on the bed and started to cry again. The day was just getting worse and worse. Some birthday.

* * *

_And there we go. The end of day one of Hermione's own personal hell. (I have really got to stop doing that. Spending the first five or so chapters on one day, and the cramming two or three day's into one chapter. I'll try not to cram)._

_And to answer my anonymous review:_

Marie:_ Hermione does seem week I know. But she is not that strong physically. Remember she is just a book-worm who has only started Auror training, while Malfoy played Quidditch. And she can't contact the ministry or Ron and Harry because she hasn't been near an owl. She's been locked in the room for most of the day. And even if she did owl the ministry there is nothing they can do. (I am making the ministry really twisted). But thank you for the review._

_End of answers._

_Thank you everyone for reviewing._

_Please review._

_Hope you liked the story._

_Rebellion Author._


	8. Chapter VIII

_Finally, I updated faster. Now I do warn you, Malfoy is nice in this chapter. Maybe permanently, maybe not. Time will only tell. And because going day by day by day does slow a story down, we are jumping a couple months into the future. Otherwise we just get a lot of boring repeats of what is happening. And do not fear, the wedding is coming soon._

_And I must recognize, on reviewer: Fanatic-Fan for being the only one to notice the not-so-subtle hints about Hermione and dancing, and reviewed about it._

_Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing about this story. Sorry if you thought I did. Even though I'm sure the first seven disclaimers didn't give it away._

* * *

**Forgetting Hogwarts**

Hermione soon found a routine to follow everyday. She'd be woken up by Flippy the house-elf who would help her get dressed, and apply the make-up that hid any bruises Malfoy had given her. She'd go down to breakfast and be a 'perfect little angel' while down there. After breakfast she'd go back to her room and beg Malfoy to let her write a letter to Ron and Harry, and he'd refuse. Narcissa would come to help 'ease' her into Pureblood life. She taught her how to walk properly, talk properly, and act properly. By that time it was lunch, and it would be just Narcissa and Hermione eating, the Malfoy men were out at there jobs. In the afternoon she would be taken to the ballroom where a dance instructor would be waiting to teach her to dance, and she would sit firmly on a chair refusing to do even the simplest of moves. Malfoy would then get home, and check on her dancing progress, and freak out when he heard she did nothing. He'd drag her to her room, and give her a couple more bruises. Then Flippy would return, help to redo her make-up and she'd go down to dinner. After dinner Malfoy would take her for walks around the Manor grounds and 'quality' time together. Then she'd go back to her room, stretch and go to bed.

She had gotten into the habit of doing various stretches at night when she was six. She had found that the stretching she did in her dance classes, while helping her flexibility, did not make her as flexible as a ballerina was supposed to be, so she started stretching every night. And even after she stopped dancing she still stretched. It was a comfortable habit that helped her to not feel so upset about anything.

She had been at Malfoy Manor for three months and seamed to get more hopeless by the day. She hadn't been able to write to Ron and Harry, no matter how secret she tried to make it, nor had they written to her. She thought for hours; mainly the hours she was supposed to be dancing; on why they hadn't written to her, she hadn't done anything wrong to them. In fact the only thing she could think of was that Malfoy was probably stopping letters from getting to her.

In those three months Malfoy's temper did not improve, and Hermione still didn't bow down the submissive role she was supposed to take. When other people were around she made it look like she was the 'perfect' Pureblood wife-to-be, but when it was just the two of them, or even just her, she was still her stubborn self. In fact, if it wasn't for her routine, she was sure she would have gone insane after the first week.

"Please Miss," her dance instructor, Simon, begged, "just a simple turn." He demonstrated. He stood on his toes and did one small, tight turn in a slow circle. She had to admit her toes were tingling to dance. Simon had given up on trying to teach her ballroom dance, and was trying to teach her ballet.

"Fine," Hermione said finally giving in. She got up, and went to one of the bar's Simon had set up. She stood near it, to catch herself if she fell. She closed her eyes briefly as she took a deep breath. She wasn't going to do some simple turn. If she was going to kill herself over some ballet turn, she was going to make it a good turn. She opened her eyes, and found a spot on the wall to stare at, she got onto her toes, and did a pirouette, and then another, and almost did a third, but lost her balance. She quickly grabbed onto the bar to steady herself.

"Oh bravo Miss!" Simon said with a small applause, "See, you can dance."

"I know I can dance Simon," Hermione said with a smile, sitting back in the chair, "I don't need to be told it."

"But you haven't been," Simon replied.

"I haven't wanted to," Hermione said, "for my own reasons."

"Well you must do more," Simon said with a hint of his normal bossy hurriedness, "Mr. Malfoy insists that you learn how to dance."

"I know _how_ to dance," Hermione replied, "I just can't!"

"I don't think what you just did is a can't," Simon said, "come, try again."

"Didn't you see," Hermione said in frustration, "I screwed up. I fell, again. I can not dance."

"Everyone makes mistakes Miss," Simon said, kneeling down so he could look Hermione in the eye, "but giving up isn't going to make you any better."

"I know that," Hermione yelled standing up. "Do you think I like having to just sit and watch people dance? Do you really think I'd want to sit when music is playing? Do you think I like not dancing?" Tears started to stream down her face, "But whether I like it or not, I can not dance!"

Simon looked a little startled at her outburst, but quickly hid it has he stood up, "If you like dancing, your level of dance ability should not matter."

"It's not my ability that makes it hard for me to dance," Hermione said, unsuccessfully trying to hold back tears, "it's everything else."

"Like what?" Simon asked, obviously thinking he was going to get Hermione to break through this unconfident nature and dance.

"Nothing that I really want to talk about," Hermione huffed and sat back down. She crossed her legs and arms, and looked at her knees. She heard Simon sigh, and walk away, probably to gramophone just as the doors opened. Hermione looked up to see Malfoy walking into the room.

"Simon," he commanded, and the instructor walked forward, "did she do anything today?"

"Remarkable, yes," Simon said, "she did two pirouettes. She refused to do anything else. She also did a really good attempt at trying to get out of dancing," and he retold everything Hermione had just said to him.

"Thank you Simon," Malfoy said, "she'll see you tomorrow. Good evening. Come Hermione." He offered his arm, and Hermione knew better then to not take it. He led her from the room down the hall and into her bedroom. She was silently bracing herself for an explosion, but he didn't. Instead he sat her on her bed, and sat next to her. He did force her to look at him though.

"Thank you for at least trying to dance today," he said. Hermione looked at him in shock. He was never kind, "I do wish you'd try harder though. It seams ballet works better for you, which leads me to wonder… have you every seen the Nutcracker ballet?"

"Only every year on TV," Hermione said excitedly before she could think. At Malfoy's blank look she added, "A TV is a muggle box that shows pictures." He shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like 'Stupid muggles.'

"How about a real performance?" he asked. She shook her head. "Well then, tonight do where a nice dress, no robe over it though. Robes always seam to scare muggles. Tonight we go see the Nutcracker, and then go for dinner."

"Really?" Hermione asked brightening up. Sure it was November, but it was toward the end of the middle of the month, and that was when Christmas performances usually started.

He nodded, "My mother made me relies that you haven't really been out since you came here. And she said that maybe watching a well done dance production might motivate you to want to dance." Hermione smiled, and he stood up, "Now do hurry up and get dressed, we leave in an hour and a half. Flippy will be here in a minute."

He started to walk to the door to his room. "Ma…Draco," she called; he looked back, "Thank you." He nodded and left.

True to what she was told, Flippy appeared in her room almost as soon as Malfoy left. "Good evening Miss," Flippy said with a bow. "Flippy is to help you get ready." And the little elf went to the closet, it opened, and for once there was more then one outfit in there. Usually it had just want Malfoy wanted her to wear. She and Flippy looked through the dresses for about ten minutes before Hermione settled on a simple black spaghetti strap dress. There was a black beaded design that wrapped around it. And a small beaded black shawl to put over her shoulders if she got cold.

"Miss looks great Miss," Flippy said after Hermione had changed into it. She then helped Hermione do her hair, and redo her make-up; which Hermione still hated; before letting her look in the body height mirror that appeared on the other side of the vanity.

Hermione couldn't believe it was her standing there. The dress lightly accented parts that needed to be accented, and hung nicely. Her hair was up in an elegant bun, with a few curls framing her face. And for shoes Flippy presented her with black heals that had straps to do up. Hermione was thankful that the heals were thicker and not stilettos. She'd fall if she was in stilettos.

As soon as Flippy was finished, and had vanished, Malfoy knocked and entered the room. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and his hair was slicked back nicely, not his typical get-it-out-of-my-face-while-still-looking-presentable style. He smiled at her.

"You look beautiful," he said coming to give her a hug. Hermione didn't know what caused this sudden change, but she gladly welcomed it. "Shall we go?" Hermione nodded. She took a little black purse that matched her dress. In it she had some make-up for immediate touch-ups; she still had a face full of bruises; and a letter addressed to the Burrow, in case she passed a mailbox that she could slip it into.

Malfoy offered his arm, and she took it. He explained that the Manor, like Hogwarts, had a spell over it so that no one could apparat inside the grounds. So once off the grounds he held onto her arm and apparated away.

"I do have my apparation license Draco," Hermione said, as they appeared in an alley.

"I know," Malfoy said, "it's just, I did not want you to apparat somewhere else. And I wanted to make sure you landed safely." They walked out of the alley, and down a semi-crowded street. Hermione saw a large theater that had "The Nutcracker Ballet" written across the message board. Malfoy handed the ticket box person their tickets before going in. Hermione couldn't help but ogle as she looked around. She had only been in a theater like this once, and it was smaller then this.

Hermione was at the edge of her seat throughout the whole production. They were in the balcony; one of the best spots according to Malfoy; and Hermione could see everything on stage. She knew the whole story of the Nutcracker, from watching the ballet on TV, to watching all the movies about it, and reading the book it was based on. But Clara really had her attention. She couldn't quite place why. The dancer was good, excellent actually to get the part of Clara, but something about her seamed familiar. As the show moved on, Hermione shook the though from her head as she watched it, thinking it was foolish thinking to think that one knew the dancer, it was probably the dance she recognized.

"Did you like the ballet darling?" Malfoy asked after the finally. Hermione wasn't sure if the 'darling' was an act for the people around, or if he really meant it.

"I loved it," Hermione said, with a small turn, and almost losing her balance. "Oh thank you so much for taking me."

"But we are not done yet," he said leading her down the steps, into the lobby, and toward the doors that had 'backstage' written across it.

"We can't go in there," Hermione said as they got closer, "it's for dancers and backstage crew only."

"And people with special permission to go through," Malfoy said with only a hint of frustration. "Another idea of Mothers, meeting the dancers."

Hermione's eyes got wide as she looked at her fiancé in wonder, before looking straight ahead, remembering Narcissa's teaching of how to walk, and look. Malfoy gave the people standing by the door some sort of pass and walked through with Hermione.

They hadn't gotten to far when Hermione heard a voice from behind them; or maybe beside, but just behind them say, "Hermione? Hermione Granger, is that you?"

* * *

_Ooh. Who could the voice belong to? For that though, we'll have to wait for the next update to find out. (hehe, I love cliffies. Even small ones like this)._

_And for those who have never taken dance lessons a pirouette is a type of turn, in which a dancer is on one foot, and the other is by the knee of the first foot, and straightens out to the side, and then bends back in. (I know I have a terrible time explaining things)._

_Thank you for all your reviews._

_Please review._

_Rebellion Author._


	9. Chapter IX

_The mystery of the voice is revealed. Is it an old boyfriends of Hermione's?Is it Ron or Harry? Is it male? Of female? How do they know each other? Why do they know each other? Well I guess if I stop talking here you can find out for your self. So read away. And sorry that it took so long for an update._

_Disclaimer: reasons why I am _not_ JK Rowling_

_1: She's a better author_

_2: She has children, I don't._

_3: I'm still in school._

_So if I am not JK Rowling, how could I own the HP series?_

* * *

**Forgetting Hogwarts**

Hermione turned around as fast as she could, in shock, having to place a hand on Malfoy's shoulder to keep her balance. Behind her stood a woman or girl possibly, about her age. She was still in costume, the one of Clara, her hair was black, and her eyes were a soft blue. Hermione blinked once to make sure she was seeing right, she opened her eyes and the girl was still there.

"Miranda!" she squealed, and the two of them instantly hugged, "But what are you doing here?"

"I was in the show, what are you doing here?" Miranda asked in the same rushed excited voice as Hermione.

"I was seeing the production with my fiancé," Hermione said. "But wow, it's been what, two three years since I last saw you!"

"Ya, we were sixteen! You said you had gotten into this really fancy boarding school for really smart people," Miranda gushed.

"And you got into some fancy schmancy ballet school, I was so jealous," Hermione gushed.

"I'm sure you would have gotten in if you were able," Miranda said. "Now wait, you said fiancé, your engaged?!?" Hermione held up the hand that had her engagement ring glued on. "My gosh Hermione, that things huge! What is he, a millionaire?"

"Sort of," Hermione said. She looked over at Malfoy, "Miranda, this is my fiancé Draco Malfoy, Draco dear, this is Miranda Lambeenee."

"Nice to meet you," Malfoy said bowing slightly. Miranda looked put-off and pulled back the hand she had extended to greet him with. "How long have you two known each other?"

"How old were we?" Miranda asked, scrunching up her forehead slightly, "Three? Four maybe?"

"We were five," Hermione said, "remember. We hated each other that year."

"Ya, we were the only ones in our class who had taken dance before,"

"Even if it was only follow the leader type stuff."

"And we were constantly trying to be better then the other."

Hermione started laughing, "Ya. Oh that was fun. And then every year after that the teachers put us in the same classes. I never did figure out why."

"Ya, we eventually got over our grudges."

"After you realized you could never be a better dancer then me," Hermione laughed. Miranda's mouth fell open in mock shock. "I was just joking."

"I know. Wow Minnie," Hermione cringed, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, _Mandy_," Hermione said, emphasizing her friends nickname, "but when did you become part of a ballet company?"

"I couple months ago," Miranda said, "after I got out of school. This was my first production."

"Your first production _and_ you got the leading role," Hermione squealed, "That's wonderful Miranda."

"Ah, you could have done that too," Miranda said with a small blush.

"Could have, but didn't," Hermione said. Miranda sort of nodded.

"Wait a minute," Malfoy cut into the girls chattering, "how do you two know each other?"

"We took ballet lessons together until we were ten," Hermione said.

"And then certain events took place that forced Hermione to go from ballerina to bookworm," Miranda said.

Malfoy looked at Hermione, and she could almost see his coldness breaking through, "You used to take dance lessons? Then why do you refuse the one's I've wanted you to take?"

"I don't suspect she'd want to dance again," Miranda cut in, "or even be able to dance again." She looked at Hermione straight in the eyes, "Right?" Hermione nodded. Miranda looked like she was about to turn away when something caught her eyes, "Hermione what's all over your face?"

"Make-up," Hermione said, "it's all over yours too."

"No, not that, under the make-up," Miranda said, pulling a tissue from a bag, Hermione hadn't noticed was slung over her shoulder. She reached up and whipped some of the make-up from Hermione's cheek. "Hermione is that a bruise?"

"Ya," Hermione said. "I fell."

"And what, landed on a hand print shaped plate?" Miranda asked skeptically, whipping more of the make-up away.

"Tile actually," Hermione said, "I have weird shaped flooring at home." Miranda gave her and are-you-kidding-me look.

"Come on Minnie," she said with a sigh, "even though it is a nice spin on the oldest saying in the book, do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

"What! You don't think I'm capable of losing my balance and falling," Hermione asked in a semi-defensive voice.

"Point taken," Miranda said, "and you always have had an odd taste in… Hermione do you have a bruise on your eye too?"

"Ya," Hermione said avoiding Miranda's tissue, "I fell and hit my head on a doorknob."

"I'm not stupid you know," Miranda said.

"I know," Hermione said in a whisper.

"But you still haven't gotten your balance back?" Miranda asked, thankfully switching the subject, "I thought the doctor said that if you didn't do _too_ much that strained you, you might get your balance back."

"Ya, I didn't follow those directions to well," Hermione said biting her lip, "me and my friends did a lot of exploring around our school, and there was a lot of stuff that could, strain, my non-exiting balance. I did try though."

"Well I guess even those books you suddenly started to like can't keep you occupied for long," Miranda said, "it's too bad, you were a great dancer."

"Hermione what is she talking about?" Malfoy asked almost in a stern tone. Hermione didn't miss the tone, and she was Miranda caught it too.

"You mean you haven't told him?" Miranda asked, Hermione shook her head, "You're going to marry the guy and you haven't told him." Hermione shook her head again. "Why not?"

"Because I can hardly admit it to myself," Hermione said, "let alone to someone else."

"What's to admit? You had an accident, could have happened to anyone. True, the way it happened was a little odd, but still, it could have happened to me, or the teacher, or anyone at all," Miranda said.

"I can admit that," Hermione said, crying again, "it's that _I_ was unable to keep my balance for two seconds that one time. _I_ fell. _I'm_ never going to dance again."

"And yet you just admitted it," Miranda said logically.

"Ya, well you cornered me," Hermione said defensively.

"Hermione, dear, what are you two talking about?" Malfoy interjected again.

Hermione smiled sweetly up at him, "I'll tell you at dinner dearest." From the corner of her eye Hermione couldn't help but notice Miranda gagging. "What? Don't like mushy stuff?"

"I thought you didn't either," Miranda said. "But if you two are going for dinner… Hermione, here let me fix your make-up and then you two can go have your dinner."

"Why don't you join us?" Malfoy suggested, causing Hermione to look up in shock, a look Miranda did not fail to notice.

"Oh, I don't want to impose," Miranda said with a smile.

"You won't be," Malfoy said, "and it would be good for Hermione. She hardly ever leaves the house." _"Gee, whose fault is that?"_ floated through Hermione's mind.

"Hermione!" Miranda said in shock, before looking at Malfoy, "Well, if you insist. Now come on Hermione, I've ruined your make-up, now let me fix it. We'll be back in a sec Draco." They didn't go that far, still within sight of Malfoy, to a little mirror. Miranda whipped away all the make-up and gasped, "Hermione! Seriously what is going on?"

"I can't tell you right now," Hermione whispered.

"Later then," Miranda said reapplying the make-up, "and you will tell me. There is no way you can go on like this. Look at what he is doing to you Hermione. There is no way this is all due to falling, no matter _how_ bad your balance is." Hermione sighed but nodded a little. "There, that's better. Your terrible at putting make-up on you know that, right."

"Gee, thanks Mandy," Hermione muttered as they walked back. "Are you ready?" she asked Miranda, looking at the obviousness of the costume.

"Oh right, I'll be _right_ back," Miranda said and dashed off, in a typical ballet run. As if she could do anything else.

"That should give us about twenty minutes," Hermione said. Malfoy offered his arm, so she, grudgingly, took it. He escorted her all around the back stage getting to look at everything, and anything. They arrived back around the same time as Miranda. She was in a simple dark red dress, with green on the neckline, around the sleeves, and the bottom of the dress. With them she was wearing simple dark red ballet flats, the kind you could get at any clothing store.

Malfoy offered his other arm to her, and she accepted, and he led the two out of the back stage, out of the lobby and into the city streets, where snow was just starting to fall. The restaurant, some high fancy expensive place, was only a block away from the theater.

"Do you have a reservation?" a hostess asked as they entered. Malfoy removed his arms from both of them, and stuck one in his pocket.

"Malfoy at nine," Malfoy said, Hermione noticed his wrist flick slightly in his pocket, Hermione could only guess at what spell he put on her, "and could you please set an extra placing, we seamed to have acquired a guest."

"Of course sir, right this way," she said. Hermione gave Malfoy a sharp glance, he did not just do an Unforgivable! Malfoy gave her an innocent look in return as he followed the hostess. Hermione and Miranda followed. Hermione was silently fuming at the thought of what he had just done. "And here we are," the hostess said stopping at a nice four seating both, "I'll be back in a minute with your extra setting."

Everyone took a set. Malfoy sat on one of the cushioned benches, Hermione said across from him and Miranda beside her. The hostess gave everyone a menu and left. Hermione opened hers and was shocked. "Draco, there's something wrong with this menu."

"What?" he asked with a hint of a sigh.

"There's no prices," Hermione said in shock.

"Of course not," Malfoy said, "you have no need to see the prices. I won't have my fiancé, or her friend, settling for the lowest price food over taste. That is why I picked this restaurant."

"Of course it is dear," Hermione said giving him a fake; but hopefully not obviously fake; smile, before going back to the menu. She ended up deciding on some dish with an Italian name that she couldn't pronounce. After the waitress had brought them all drinks, and taken their orders did Malfoy start the topic Hermione really didn't want to talk about.

"Hermione dearest darling," he started, "we are at the restaurant. Now will you tell me about your balance?"

* * *

_I know, I know, I'm evil. Two cliffi's in a row. But I have a good excuse for this one, if I didn't leave it off here, not only would it be forever until you all got to read another update, but I would have to continue this chapter onto what I have planned for the next chapter. I am so sorry about the cliffie. But I judged it necessary. Please do not kill me._

_Thank you for all your reviews._

_Please review._

_Rebellion Author._


	10. Chapter X

_Sorry for the delay in this chapter. But on Saturday I got the seventh Harry Potter book (and spent 9 hours reading it), and then I spent Sunday Monday and Tuesday grieving about how bad it was (it reminded me of a well written fanfic). Wednesday yesterday and today I spent writing this chapter and trying to get it how I wanted it._

_But don't take my word on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Go and read it yourself, maybe you will like it. It was a good book, but it sounded like Ms. Rowling read to many fanfics to get ideas._

_Still love the series though._

_Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. If I was, I would be celebrating the success of the 7th book wouldn't I? No, I'm just a teen going into 11th grade hoping to one day be even a fraction as good as JK Rowling._

_On with the story._

* * *

**Forgetting Hogwarts**

Hermione sighed and took a sip of the wine Malfoy had poured for her before taking a deep breath and started, "When I was little I slipped, fell, and hit my head."

"Talk about the bare bones of a story," Miranda muttered, "at least give out details."

Hermione just laughed a little and shook her head as if giving up on Miranda. When she caught Malfoy's eye though, she was inclined to tell the whole story. His eyes had gotten completely cold and hard again, "Fine. Wow you two have no sense of privacy.

"Well then, since my generalization didn't go well. When I was ten I had an accident. I was in dance class, practicing a duet with Miranda. I had just landed a jump and was about to go into a turn. In that turn, my foot slid out from under me, I fell and hit my head on the dance bar. The force indented some of my skull by my ear, giving me a concussion. It also did something to the equilibrium."

"The what?" Malfoy asked.

"The part of your ear that controls your balance," Hermione supplied. "I haven't been able to dance, or do much of anything since." From Malfoy's look he would be asking more questions later.

"So, Minnie," Miranda started.

Hermione cut her off, "Please Miranda, can you stop calling me Minnie? I don't look like a mouse any more." Malfoy let out a small cough, probably covering his laugh.

"Ya right," Miranda said, "Minnie you are, and Minnie you shall be." Hermione rolled her eyes. Further conversation was cut off by a waiter coming to deliver the food. Hermione looked at her steaming pile of some Italian noodle and what looked like chicken; probably some other meat though, fancy restaurant like this. She looked at the other two, Miranda had ordered a small salad and was nibbling at it, and Malfoy had the same thing as Hermione. She sighed and took a small bite. It was good. The conversation quite for the rest of the meal, but it was an uneasy silence. Especially since Hermione desperately wanted to ask Miranda for some help.

When the waiter finally came to collect plates and suggested desserts, which the two girls turned down, did Hermione catch her last chance to be alone with Miranda, "Would you excuse us for a moment Draco?" she asked gently prodding Miranda to move off the bench, "I'm going to fix my make-up, in case any smudged while I was eating."

Draco nodded and as the two left Malfoy spoke up, "But why is she going with you?"

"A girl never ever goes to the washroom alone," Miranda said over her shoulder, "to do make-up if there is another girl along." They didn't wait to hear what Malfoy would say to that but rushed, as fast as they could without looking like they were, to the washroom. As soon as they were there Hermione quickly checked the stalls for feet, and finding none, quickly locked the door, wishing for her wand to cast a silencing spell on the door.

"OK Miranda, I need your help," Hermione said digging in her purse, thankful that she found someone who could mail this for her, instead of trying to do it herself.

"With what?" Miranda asked.

"This," Hermione said handing her friend the letter. "It's a letter to my friends from school. I haven't talked to them in a while, and I'm sure they're wondering why."

"Why do you need me to send it," Miranda asked confused taking the envelope.

"Because Ma… Draco won't let me send them any mail," Hermione said, "he won't let me send anyone mail."

"You could call them when he's not around," Miranda suggested.

Hermione shook her head, "Draco and his family don't believe in too many unnecessary electronics like the phone, and Ron and Harry don't have one either. So will you send?"

"Of course," Miranda said slipping it inside her purse. "But Hermione, to tell you the truth, I don't think this Draco is the kind of guy you really should marry."

"I know. I have to marry him though. I don't want to," Hermione whispered, "but it's complicated. Not marrying him could mean the end of everything."

"Of what?" Miranda asked skeptically, "The end of you getting pushed around?"

"Much more then that," Hermione said, fixing her make-up slightly so Malfoy wouldn't get suspicious, "it's really hard to understand, and if I told you, you would think that either I was insane, or if you do believe me, the only way to prove myself was taken away from me."

"Minnie," Miranda said, "I won't think you're insane."

"Well," Hermione said, "you sure?" Miranda rolled her eyes and nodded. Hermione sighed and took a big breath, "Fine. Wheniwaselevenifoundoutiwasawitchthatschoolitoldyouiwenttoforthementallygiftedwasactuallytotraintobeawitchanewlawwaspassedinthesocietyofwitchesandwizardsmakingpeoplewithnonmagicparentslikemehavingtomarrypeoplewithmagicallyparentssonowifidontmarrymalfoyillhavemymemoryerasedandiwontbeawitchnomore." She finished all in one breath.

"What?" Miranda asked blinking.

Hermione sighed, and started again, slower, "When I was eleven I found out I was a witch. That school I told you I went to for the mentally gifted was actually to train to be a witch. A new law was passed in the society of witches and wizards making people with non-magic parents, like me, marry people with magical parents. So now if I don't marry Malfoy, I'll have my memory erased, and I won't be a witch no more."

Miranda blinked a couple times, "Witch? Memory erased?" Hermione nodded. "OK tell me slower," Miranda started, "You're a witch?" Hermione nodded. "Like real spell casting with a wand witch?" Hermione nodded. "Do you have your wand with you?" Hermione sadly shook her head. "Why not?"

"He took it," Hermione said between her teeth, "until I could 'behave myself.'"

Miranda scowled, "What did you mean having your memory erased? You can actually have memories removed?"

"It's being debated," Hermione said, "some theologians believe it just suppresses the memories so you can't access them; without intensive therapy. And some believe the spell actually removes the memory." Miranda gave Hermione a blank look, "It's inconclusive."

"There, you could have just said that," Miranda said. "But Hermione, is this society of yours really worth it? Is it worth being pushed around, and by the look of your face, abused?"

"It is," Hermione said forcing her tears to not fall, "it's not just me. Through all seven years of my schooling something happened each year that is unforgettable. If it meant getting away from Malfoy I would gladly give them away. But it's not. I not only forget all of that. I forget all my friends that I made in the last eight years. I can't lose that. I just can't."

"But Hermione, you'd still have friends out here. And by the sounds of it, Draco is making you lose your friends in that society too."

Hermione sighed, Miranda just wasn't getting it. "Mandy, you remember when we were little, before my accident?" Miranda nodded, "And how we swore dancing was the only thing for us, and nothing was going to stop us from becoming world famous dancers, and then choreographers?" Miranda laughed and nodded again, "While this, my friend and memories, is like that."

Miranda sighed as she went to the door and unlocked it, opening the door, she turned to Hermione and said, "And maybe he's your accident."

"Maybe," Hermione said following her friend out. Malfoy was still in their booth eating what looked like a chocolate moose pie, and Hermione suddenly remembered she hadn't asked Miranda about why she didn't seam to be eating, but no time now. Hermione slide into the booth, and Miranda followed.

"You took your time," Malfoy stated.

"Had to use the washroom itself," Miranda supplied. Malfoy just nodded, indicating the tea cups in front of them. Hermione sighed and took a sip of the tea that Malfoy seamed to have ordered for her. Peppermint, her favorite. They all talked for a while longer about seemingly innocent things, like the wedding, and dance until Hermione for some reason, felt her balance slip. She saw double of everything and then it slid back into one view, and then out again. Malfoy seemed to notice this almost instantaneously.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" he asked in what sounded like real panic. Hermione just waved her hand, which was a little cold. "I'm sorry Miranda. It was really nice meeting you, and I'm sure Hermione is glad to have seen you again. But she's not feeling well; I'm going to take her home."

"Of course," Miranda said sliding from the booth, and helped Hermione get out as well. Malfoy was at Hermione's side in seconds, propping her up against him. Hermione wasn't sure if she felt something like a vial against his pants pocket or not. Maybe she was imagining things. He half led, half dragged her to pay for the meal, gave Miranda some money for a taxi home and started down the street to a dark alley to apparate from. Once there he apparated with Hermione, who would have fallen over when they landed if it wasn't for Malfoy holding her upright. He then dragged her up the walk to the Manor. All the while Hermione's balance kept slipping for no reason, her feet decided they didn't want to work anymore, she couldn't feel her fingers, and her vision kept going and coming.

Malfoy led her straight to her room, and by the time she got there she was a little scared at what was happening to her, but glad that now she could just sleep it off. Maybe it was the wine she had had; she didn't drink alcohol that much. Or maybe the restaurant had put something in the tea that she was allergic to. But that all erased from her mind as Malfoy set her on the bed and started to take off her shoes. By then she was starting to forget stuff, and was drifting to sleep. Everything was only light and shadows now.

The last thing she remembered was her dress slipping over her head, the weight of something on either side of her on the bed, by her legs, the occasional glimpse of arms by her pillow, the silhouette of a head coming to her face, and soft lips pressing down on hers.

* * *

_I'll let you figure out what happens next. It should be obvious, and as I am no good at detailing extremely horrible things like that I won't be explaining it, use your imagination. (I hope I don't sound rude there). And is that another cliffie though? I'm not sure. But if it is, don't worry I don't plan on ending all the rest of the chapters in cliffies._

_Thank you for reading this chapter._

_Thank you all for your reviews._

_Please review._

_Rebellion Author._


	11. Chapter XI

_I am SO sorry that it took me so long to update this story. I had this chapter almost finished, and I went online to my school website to see if I had the right grade amount to get into Biology, and when bringing that up, it slowed down my computer, so I saved the chapter and exited out of word. But it didn't go away, and the thing wouldn't load, so I had to re-boot the computer. And when I went to work on my story again, it said I hadn't saved when the computer shut off, so I had lost two pages worth of work. And then I realized in what I had written she was too willing to be around Malfoy after what he just did. So I had to re-write it. And I had a small amount of writers block. But I just finished it, and edited it (as best I could) but do expect a few mistakes._

_Thank you for being patient in the wait. I will try to update faster next time._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing! It's all JK Rowling's! I own nothing!_

* * *

**Forgetting Hogwarts**

Hermione opened her eyes to early morning light pouring into her window. At first, while she rubbed sleep from her eyes, she couldn't understand why she was so groggy, at first, but then it came back to her. Up until the kiss anyway, after that her mind was blank. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened. Hermione's first thought was to through up, but she didn't get the chance, as who else but Malfoy came swaggering into the room.

"Good morning," he sang, a smug look on his face. He was taunting her. She glared at him and grabbed her pillow chucking it as hard as she could at him. She tossed all her pillows at him. And then the books that surrounded her bed. Followed by her shoes.

"You evil psychotic SOB," she yelled as she chucked a pair of stilettos that had coincidentally appeared at by her; the heal of one cutting Malfoy's cheek. Any hint of joking left his face; he crossed the room and pushed her against the wall. Still glaring she pushed herself off of it and started to kick him, and driving her elbow into his stomach. She only stopped when he put a full body bind spell on her.

"Now you listen up," he growled, "I did nothing to deserve such treatment." Hermione rolled her eyes, the only thing she could move. "I was only claiming what was mine! And since you seam so fond of stupid muggles and their strange customs, I thought it was only fitting that I tried the muggle way of getting what they want. Not as satisfying though." He reached out and caressed her cheek; she would have cringed if she could, "Though you are mine now." She really wanted to slap him at that moment, but her arm wouldn't even move. "Now as much as I would love to teach you a lesson in respect, again, we have an important business matter to attend to before breakfast. You have ten minutes to get dressed. And don't bother putting on make-up, you need a reminder to stay obedient." He aimed his wand at her and said the counter curse. At once she raised her arm to slap him, but he caught it easily, "Any more stunts like that and I'll make you go down in your night gown." He flung her wrist away from him and stalked from the room.

Growling under her breath about him Hermione sulked to the closet and opened it up. Last nights endless choices of clothes were gone. In place of it was what looked like a business suit. Just like a muggle suit, just in place of a blazer, was a robe. The skirt of the suit, the tie, and the robe were a dark green, and the blouse was a lighter, creamier green. Under it was a darker green pair of shoes. Rolling her eyes Hermione quickly changed into the suit, and pulled her unruly hair up into a dancer's bun again. It looked professional. She took a glance in the vanity; which had changed into a full length mirror to see the whole outfit; and at once her face grabbed her attention. Her cheeks were darkly bruised, one of her eyes were black, her lip looked like it was starting to swell, and she even had a bruise on her forehead. Hermione didn't even recognize herself.

"If your down gazing at my wonderful handiwork, can we go?" came a drawl causing Hermione to jump. She looked over to see Malfoy leaning in the doorway between their two rooms. She just nodded. He crossed the room, grabbed her arm, and dragged her from the room. Her gag reflex working over drive; but she couldn't show it; and she wanted to pull her arm from his grasp, even though she didn't.

He led to the parlor. In there sat Blaise and Pansy Zambini, Narcissa Malfoy and some old, really old, guy. He held a pad of paper in one hand, and a quill in the other. Malfoy led her to the couch that Blaise and Pansy were sitting on, let her sit down next to Pansy, and then sat on the other side of her.

"Mr. Malfoy," the old guy greeted, "and Miss Granger. Pleasure to meet you. I'm Minister Frolic." Hermione hid her giggle in a cough. "I perform marriages and funerals for the British Wizarding Community. I'm here about your marriage to Mr. Malfoy here."

"Nice to meet you too," Hermione said slowly.

"Very good. Lets get started shall we?" Frolic said. "Full names of the bride and groom."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy and…" Malfoy looked at Hermione.

"Hermione Anne Jane Marie Granger the Third," Hermione reeled off.

"Full names of Maid of Honor and Best Man."

"Blaise Gordhart Zambini, and Pansy Jenny Parkinson Zambini," Malfoy replied. Hermione looked at him in anger. How dare he pick _her_ Maid of Honor!

"Full names of Bridesmaids?"

"Ginerva Molly Weasley and Sarah Anne Jane Marie Granger," Hermione stated before Malfoy could open his mouth.

"But Hermione dear," Malfoy said, "I thought you wanted Millicent and Regina as your bridesmaids." Hermione almost laughed. She hardly knew either of the two Slytherin girls.

"No dear," Hermione replied back in a false loving voice, "I wanted Ginny and my sister." She wouldn't mind having Miranda at the wedding as well, but then it would take a lot of explaining of how she knew of the wizarding community.

"Disagreements?" Frolic asked.

"No we're good, continue on," Hermione said. Finally winning a battle.

"Alright, full names of the Groomsmen."

"Vincent John Crabbe and Gregory George Goyle," Malfoy spat.

"Guests." Frolic said scribbling down notes after notes.

This time Narcissa started the lists. First of males then of females. Hermione could have hugged her when she heard the Weasley's names on the list as well as Harry's.

"Mother," Malfoy cut in, "why are the blood traitors and Potter invited?"

"Because son, they are your fiancé's friends, so they must be invited as well. Same with her parents."

"But there muggles!"

"That doesn't matter."

"Alright," Frolic said. "I have everything I need here. If you all would just sign it, I will see you in two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Hermione asked in shock.

"Yes, you and your fiancé are getting married on December first are you not?" Frolic asked.

The glare in Malfoy's eye warned her to not disagree, "Yes of course. Silly me, I forgot what day it was today." Malfoy gave her a small nod of approval and signed the document. Hermione read over the whole thing before signing it and passing it on to Pansy. After everyone had signed it Frolic left.

"Blaise, I do believe we have important business to get back too," Malfoy said standing up. "Shall we leave the women alone?"

"Yes lets," Blaise said standing up. He looked down his nose at Pansy, "And do behave won't you? I don't want you to ruin my reputation with Draco." And they left. Hermione was looking at him in shock until the door was safely shut.

"Pansy! How can you just let him talk to you like that?" Hermione asked turning to her friend.

"Because she must," Narcissa said standing up from her chair and sitting on the other side of Hermione. "As you must too. Draco is not afraid to do whatever it takes to get what is his. And according to the law you're his. The only problem is he always wanted an obedient pureblood wife. And since he can't have the pureblood wife, he wants the obedient wife and will stop at nothing to get this. This is what most husbands require from their wives. Pansy, at first, tried to get her independence from her husband; as do most pureblood wives; but females in the wizarding world are not brought up to be strong, while the men are. They are stronger then us Hermione, and we just have to except that."

"But I can't!" Hermione said, starting to cry. "Women have fought for, and gained the right to be equals. Even in the wizarding world there are women in the work field, and I'm stuck having to marry the man I have hated since I met him. And he won't even let me be me!"

"Oh Hermione," Pansy said giving her a hug, "I know it must be hard on you. You were never taught, or even expected to know, how to act like a pureblood wife."

"Hermione," Narcissa cut in, "is something else bothering you?" Hermione looked at her in shock; how could Narcissa know? She seemed to read Hermione's mind again. "You were sitting as far away from Draco as possible while still looking like a couple, and you shuddered a little every time he touched you. _Is_ something bothering you?" Hermione sighed and nodded her head, before plunging into her story of last night, up to when she forgot, and then this morning too.

"And the worst of it, was this morning when I confronted him on it, he said he was 'claiming what was his.' I wanted to puke on him," Hermione finished, now sobbing. Both Pansy and Narcissa hugged her again.

"Are you sure that's what he said?" Narcissa asked and Hermione nodded. Pansy and Narcissa shared a look.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Pansy said slowly, "when a wizard sleeps with a witch and then claims her for himself, it's basically a curse. It makes it impossible for the witch to be with any other man. Wizard or muggle."

"But why would he do that?" Hermione asked, "I'm being forced to marry him!"

"But you still have two weeks in which you can tell him no," Pansy replied softly.

* * *

_See no cliffie this time. Oh and I do tell you all, there is going to be only one more chapter. There you can see if she says Yes to Malfoy or No. So I promise to update quick-like._

_Thank you for all of your reviews._

_Please review again. You have full right to be mad about how late it took me to update as well._

_Thank you for reading._

_Rebellion Author._


	12. Chapter XII

_And here it is. Just hours after the last update a new update! The last update. I won't talk to much up here, cause I know you want to read. Have fun._

_Disclaimer: Everything is JK Rowling's._

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**Forgetting Hogwarts**

The next two weeks were turmoil for Hermione. First she'd decide she wasn't going to marry Malfoy, and be an outcast for the rest of her life. Then she would think of something from school. The troll in first year. Being petrified in second year. Victor Krum in fourth year. All the adventures that Hermione had with Harry and Ron; and she couldn't just let herself forget all of those things, could she?

Her balance started to slip even farther until Malfoy took her to a healer who forced her to take a balance potion until the wedding. During those two weeks as well, Hermione had to pick out the design for her wedding dress; she was shocked that she got to pick; and with Narcissa's help the house elves made it for her, though she could never try the whole thing on at once. She also picked out the dress for her Bridesmaids and Maid of Honor. She picked out a simple purple dress that was tight around the bodice and flowed out from the waist, ending elegantly at the knee. It had dark pink spaghetti straps, and a dark pink sash around the waist.

As well as the dresses she was to help pick out decorations, the type of cake, seating arrangements, what the main meal was to be at the reception, as well as dessert, appetizers and children's menu.

Malfoy stopped slapping Hermione in the face, so the bruises went down, purely so she would look beautiful for the wedding. Instead he promised her all of her misbehavior's before the wedding he would punish during the honeymoon. And Hermione had more then one melt down on Narcissa and Pansy who where more then happy to help her.

"Just think," Malfoy said the night before the wedding taking her arm after dinner and leading her for a walk, "tomorrow we shall be man and wife. I know you've been reluctant in the past, but I'm sure after the wedding you will step gracefully into the position of a wife. All witches do." Hermione stopped listening after that point. Instead she thought of her parents and little sister. They had arrived a couple day's ago, a little shocked at finding out their daughter and sister was getting married in a few day's time, but happy none-the-less. By that time all of her bruises had either faded, or were charmed to look like they weren't there at all.

Sarah, two years younger then Hermione, was shocked that her bookworm sister was getting married. Their mother; Hermione Anne Jane Marie Yellowcorp Granger Jr; was a little stunned but still fussed over the daughter she hadn't seen in months. While her father; John Howard Granger; had given Malfoy the if-you-hurt-my-daughter-so-help-me-you-will-not-live-to-see-another-day speech. Hermione was glad to have her family back; her mother and Narcissa were becoming great friends, and Pansy and Sarah were exchanging beauty tips; but she wished she could tell them the real reason for her marriage. Some stupid law.

Before she went to bed that night, Malfoy finally gave her her wand back; just for the ceremony.

The next morning Hermione was wakened by someone shaking her shoulder. "Miss! Miss!" a squeaky voice called. Hermione opened her eyes to see Flippy shaking her shoulders. "Miss! Miss must hurry! Miss Ginerva Weasley, Miss's bridesmaid, is here to see Miss. Miss Weasley has brought friends who also wish to see miss Miss."

"Alright," Hermione grumbled sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She was sure the feeling in her stomach wasn't jut some butterfly's playing around. It was millions of butterfly's having a war! Hermione stood up, and with some help from Flippy she dressed in a simple pink sundress to go downstairs in. Malfoy had spent the night at the Zambini Manor so that there was no chance he'd see his bride before she walked down the isle.

As soon as she walked into the parlor she was squished by three different hugs at one time. After a couple second the three huggers stepped back; after Hermione had to gasp for air; and reveled three people. Two boys; now men; and a girl. Two redheads and a black haired glasses wearing one.

"Harry! Ron! Ginny!" she squealed giving them all a hug. "When did you get here?"

"Five minutes ago," Ginny replied.

"Well did you get my letter?"

"Of course we did," Harry said, "but Hermione, what took you so long to write to us?"

"_Draco_ wouldn't let me write to you. I had to sneak it out through a friend of mine in the muggle world. Lucky chance it was," Hermione said hugging them again.

"Hermione tell us _everything_ that has been happening," Ginny ordered, so Hermione told them, leaving out the incident when Malfoy drugged her. And then Harry Ron and Ginny told her everything that had been going on between them since she left, after Hermione and Ginny convinced Harry and Ron _not_ to kill Malfoy; at least until the wedding was over. They spent a good hour talking before Flippy came back.

"Flippy is sorry Miss's and Master's," Flippy said with a bow, "but Miss and Miss must get ready for the wedding now." So Hermione and Ginny said goodbye to Harry and Ron and followed Flippy to the changing room. The room was big with four changing screens. Pansy and Sarah were already there, as was Narcissa and Mrs. Granger.

Hermione was led to a changing screen and her mother and soon to be mother-in-law helped her into her dress. The dress was simple, but beautiful. It was sleeveless, tight until the waist, and then flared out beautifully in layers, landing gently on the floor. Her hair was put up in a series of twists and knots, to end in a very elegant, but fitting bun on her head, with a few strands left out, and curled, to frame her face. The veil was clipped to her bun before she could step out from behind the screen and look into a mirror.

"Wow Hermione, you look beautiful," Sarah gasped, and the other two girls, and the two women, agreed.

"Hermione dear, can we talk?" Mrs. Granger asked, and Hermione nodded, the walked into a room connected to the changing room.

"What's wrong Mom?" Hermione asked as Mrs. Granger started fussing over Hermione's dress.

"Do you love Draco?" Mrs. Granger finally asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's your wedding day," Mrs. Granger started, "and while you are glowing, it's not an I'm-about-to-marry-the-man-of-my-dreams glow. It's a different glow. So do you love him?"

"I don't know," Hermione said with a sigh, not wanting to tell her mother about the law, or that she didn't love him at all. "It's complicated. I promise I'll explain later, after the ceremony, which is about to start."

"Alright dear," Mrs. Granger said looking a little worried. She helped Hermione back into the changing room where Mr. Granger was waiting. Mrs. Granger kissed her husband, wished Hermione luck, and went to find her seat.

Narcissa quickly slide up to Hermione and whispered, "I have to go to my seat too. But remember Hermione, whether you choose to marry my son or not is up to you, though I think I know what you are going to pick. But remember, even the strongest of spells can be stopped or reversed. Hang on to your memories, for when your old it's all you'll have." And then she left.

Hermione could here the music coming from the cold December air outside as she and her Bridesmaids were handed their bouquets. Her Bridesmaids each held a single red rose, and a single white rose. Her bouquet was made up of fifteen red roses encircled by black roses. The red roses to signify the love between a husband and wife, the black to signify that the love was dead.

Hermione's Bridesmaids walked down the isle, and gasps could be heard about their beauty. Mr. Granger took Hermione's arm, and the wedding march filled the air. Slowly they walked outside to where the ceremony was being held, and then, after a moments pause her father led her down the isle. If the gasps for the Bridesmaids were loud, it was nothing compared to the ones for Hermione. At the end of the isle was Malfoy, looking smug in all her glory. Though she wished to look elsewhere Hermione kept her eyes on him.

The ceremony started with Mr. Granger giving his daughter away. Minister Frolic then asked both Hermione and Malfoy for their wands, which they handed over. The wands were suspended between the two owners, facing each other; a thin gold line connected the two. A gasp could be heard from Mr. and Mrs. Granger, as well as Sarah and Hermione. Then came the vows.

"Do you Draco Lucius Malfoy take Hermione Anne Jane Marie Granger the Third to be your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, to honor and cherish as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Malfoy said and a romantic sigh swept across the crowd.

"And do you Hermione Anne Jane Marie Granger the Third take Draco Lucius Malfoy as your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, to honor and cherish and obey as long as you both shall live?"

_'This is it,'_ crossed Hermione's mind, _'the end of my life.'_ She took a deep breath. "No," she finally said, and a gasp, followed by silence, fell across the crowed. She was somewhat shocked with herself. Malfoy's eyes flashed red momentarily.

"Miss Granger, you have two chances to change your mind? Will you take Draco Lucius Malfoy as your lawfully wedded husband?" Frolic asked, sounding shocked himself.

"No," Hermione said again.

"This is your last chance Miss Granger; will you marry Draco Lucius Malfoy?" Frolic asked. Malfoy's glaring eyes gave a clear message. _'Say yes,'_ was the message.

Hermione took another deep breath, this was going to break her heart, leaving behind all she knew, "No, I will not marry him." A gasp swept across the crowd again. The gold line connecting the two wands disappeared, and Hermione's wand snapped on its own. It was almost as if a part of her heart snapped. Malfoy looked like he was going to lunge at her, but Blaise held him back saying something along the lines of 'She's not worth it.'

"Miss Granger, I am sorry," Frolic said, he pointed his wand at Hermione. "Obliviate."

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_Oh the last chapter is now complete. Do watch for the sequel _Remembering Hogwarts_. But how did Narcissa know Hermione's choice. Was her guess correct. What is the meaning behind the advice she gave to Hermione. What was the glow Mrs. Granger was talking about? Will Hermione ever see Ron Harry or Ginny again? Will she ever see Malfoy again? Will she fall for Malfoy? I'd love to tell you, but you'll have to read the sequel to find out._

_Thank you all so much for reading my story._

_Thank you for all your reviews._

_Please review._

_Please do read the sequel when I post it._

_Rebellion Author._


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